Teeter Dance
by pantslizard
Summary: Completing the Pokédex, seeing the world, and adventuring with her best friends? Sounds awesome! Defeating misguided Pokémon rights activists, catching the uncatchable, and getting involved with the wrong guy? Well... Mild White AU. Hilda/N.
1. Chapter 1

_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ Hello, everyone, and thanks for taking the time to check out my story! This is the first fanfic I've written in... well, a very long time, but I was just so enthused with Black & White I just had to have a crack at it. :) This is a very slight AU of White, which is the version I played-and I expect you will be able to figure out what's different in this story very promptly-and is only meant to be compliant with game canon (I don't watch the anime or read the manga, so I have no idea if this is even an issue!) I expect this story to run between 12 and 15 chapters (hoping to update weekly, but...), and the rating will likely go up at some point, so you might wish to avoid this story if you will be offended by mild language (they are teenagers, after all), violence (nothing gory, but their pokémon do beat each other up), or adult situations (ahem). Not sure if I'll be making a habit of these author's notes, but I will definitely put one up if/when the rating does change. So, once again, thanks for looking, and I hope you enjoy what you find; I'd absolutely love to hear what you think (I am a little rusty, after all).

**Chapter One**

"What an _odd _fellow," Cheren said, sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose to peer suspiciously at the departing stranger. From the serious, studious boy, that mild remark was as good as a stinging rebuke.

"That was... something," Bianca agreed, her lips pursed. She glanced over at the empty plaza, filled only moments ago with imposing lines of uniformed figures, as if she expected some further trouble to arise, but found only small knots of townspeople wound in troubled conversation. "But, hey," she said, the effort it took her to speak lightly evident in her tone, "we've got Hilda to sort stuff out for us, we're fine."

Hilda snorted a laugh. "Yeah, definitely," she said, her own gazed still fixed on the "odd fellow"'s retreating back; he moved quickly but not hurriedly, his hands shoved in his pockets. She still held the pokéball cupped loosely in her hands, slowly rotating it between her palms unconsciously. Her freshly caught Lillipup had outdone himself—_they _had outdone themselves, in their first ever trainer battle with someone besides one of her friends—but the warm flush of victory was tempered by the chill of the things he'd said, the way he'd acted. "I, uh... well, that was _not _what I was expecting to have happen today." She laughed again, a little nervously.

Cheren rolled his eyes. "Political dissidents," he said, jerking his head towards the plaza. "I suppose you get all sorts lurking around." He shook his head, dismissing the entire topic. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about... as if people could ever be separated from pokémon."

"I don't know," Bianca said. "It did seem like there were a lot of them."

"Oh, perhaps a dozen at most. They just made an intimidating showing."

"I guess so." But Bianca's expression was troubled, as if something had occurred to her that she didn't quite have the nerve to share. Normally, Hilda would have prompted her to speak up, but she wasn't quite up to hearing more unpleasant speculation, not with the last of the adrenalin from the battle coursing through her system and the strangers' words still ringing in her ears. The boy in particular; there was something about his quick, nervous speech and the strain in his eyes that she couldn't put from her mind.

"Well, we've wasted most of the afternoon listening to this," Cheren said, "and I mean to make it to Striation City today." He glanced up at the sky; the sun had only just begun to set, its lowering rays already beginning to turn the world golden. "There should be time to do some exploring on Route 2 if we hurry."

Bianca straightened, resettling the strap of her bag on her shoulder, and looked at Hilda expectantly. Hilda blinked, her wandering thoughts tripped up by her friend's attention and, without knowing precisely why, made her decision. "Oh, uh, yeah, definitely," she said. "But, look, I wanna take the little guy by the Pokécenter. Just to make sure he's okay, you know?" she continued when Cheren's gaze sharpened, proferring the ball; the Lillipup had taken out the stranger's Purrloin in three quick strikes without receiving so much as a scratch.

Bianca beamed. "That was _really _great. I hope Daisy gets to be that tough soon! Is that what you're calling him? Little Guy?"

Hilda paused, chagrined. She'd been so excited by catching her first real live wild pokémon that she hadn't really thought about it; she'd just delighted in how easy and responsive he had been during the little training they'd been able to do before reaching Accumula Town. She felt bad, recalling how he'd practically burst from the pokéball, bouncing with the excitement of being able to confront the strange trainer's Purrloin; he deserved so much more from her. "Nah, not Little Guy," she said, closing her fingers around the pokéball. "Lemmy. Like 'lemme at 'em!'"

Bianca laughed; Cheren did a poor job of restraining a sigh. He hated her puns. She grinned. "So, yeah, don't let me hold you guys up, I'll meet you there if I don't catch up on the way, alright?"

"Alright," Bianca said. "Don't get too far behind!"

"Or we'll have caught them all," Cheren said. Bianca shot him a disapproving look as Hilda made a face at him; they all broke into smiles. Hilda turned away with a wave, making her way conspicuously in the direction of the Pokécenter; she ambled a few steps before turning and glancing behind just in time to see her friends enter the Route 2 gate. She stopped and bit her lip, hesitant; then, before she had a chance to change her mind, spun on her heel and trotted off in the direction that strange boy had gone.

She tucked her long brown bangs behind her ears, tugging her pink and white hat down on her head and clasping her satchel so that it wouldn't bang against her hip as she moved. She wasn't sure why she'd felt the need to ditch her friends the way she had—well, that wasn't precisely true; she didn't want to deal with Cheren's disapproval and Bianca's nervousness while she did this. She supposed she'd snuck off like this just to save time arguing with them about going off by herself, but the little betrayal gnawed at her nonetheless. But Accumula was only a small town, and gave way to forest very quickly; if she didn't catch up with him soon, she wasn't likely to at all.

As for why she wanted to catch up with him at all... Hilda sighed as she clipped Lemmy's pokéball to her belt and picked up her pace a little. The guy had been _weird, _stressed and nervous and... something. And claiming to talk to pokémon? Seriously? He was probably just a nutcase, but he'd seemed so sincere, and so taken aback by the battle he'd challenged her to. He'd even _looked _strange, with his wild hair and his deathly pale skin, gangly and off-balance. She wanted to know what his deal was... and, hey, what was the point of being on an adventure if you didn't do stuff like this, right?

But it looked like this particular thread of it might already be petering out; even in her short trip along the thoroughfare, houses had already become few and far between; the dirt path was already becoming dotted with patches of tenacious grass. Accumula was a suburb of Striation City in only the broadest sense; it had started out as a commuter town, but the lack of a subway route had eventually consigned it, and the even more isolated Nuvema, to becoming little more than vacation hamlets. She had yet to catch sight of the guy, and if she didn't soon, she was going to race back to catch up with her friends; curious as she might be, she was _not _going to try to follow some creepy stranger into the woods.

Hilda saw what she was pretty sure was the last house on this side of town hove into view: what seemed to be a hobby farm, a cute gingerbread-style house surrounded by lovingly manicured berry bushes in neat rows. Beyond it stood trees in wild profusion, dark, sharp grass blanketing the under-canopy only a few yards in. She slowed her pace as she approached; she'd go to the end of the berry farm, and turn around if she didn't see him. She had already mostly given up on the idea that she would, and was somewhat relieved; she felt bad for fibbing to her friends, and wasn't sure exactly what she was hoping to achieve here. She wouldn't mind chalking this one up as a wasted effort.

So, of course, she saw him as soon as she crested the slight rise of the road.

She came to a halt, and debated turning around anyway, before he noticed her. He crouched beneath the trees, just under where their shadows began to fall upon the clipped grass. But he wasn't quite as unnerving as he'd grown to be in her memory, seen this way; for one thing, he'd seemed to tower about her when he'd approached, despite the anxiety radiating from him in waves. His long, spring-green hair fell down his back in bushy waves, and he was turned at such an angle that it obscured whatever it was he seemed to be staring intently at on the ground before him. His left hand was moving, though; she could see the light glinting off the bronze bracelets he wore. She paused, not sure what to make of this, until a long, slender purple tail popped up and brushed along his knee.

Hilda smiled, sidling over so that she could see better; his Purrloin was out of its ball, seemingly recovered from their battle, and stropping itself against his shins with every evidence of bliss as he scratched its neck. Now she hesitated to interrupt such a sweet moment as the Purrloin flopped over onto its side, rolling over luxuriantly to offer him its yellow-spotted belly. She could hear it purring from here. And now, she realized, she was being the creep, watching them like this. "Hey there," she called softly, hoping not to startle them.

It might have gone better if she'd thrown a rock at him. He scooped the Purrloin into the crook of his arm and shot to his feet so quickly she scarcely saw him do it; he straightened his shoulders and looked down at her from his full height, the black brim of his hat obscuring his eyes enough that she couldn't make out much of his expression. "We are not going to battle you again." The Purrloin wriggled in his grasp, balancing on his forearm and watching her warily.

"Uh, no," she said, taken aback by the abruptness of his response. "I just... wanted to say hi."

He cocked his head slightly and was silent for a moment. "Hi," he said finally.

"So, um." Hilda was at a loss for words; she hadn't really thought about how this might go, but this... no, it wasn't hostility, but his reaction was... "I'm... glad to see your little dude's okay," she stammered, and then could have bitten her tongue for saying it; she hoped he wouldn't think she was trying to rub his loss in.

Again the head tilt, this time with a frown, and an even longer pause. "Babe," he said.

"_What?" _

"Chick? She's a she."

"Oh." Hilda laughed uncertainly. "Sorry. She's really pretty. What's her name?"

"Prrrlt."

She swallowed another laugh, not wanting to offend him. "I'm not even gonna try to pronounce that."

He nodded. "I'm not quite getting it right." He gestured to his throat with his free hand. "We lack an appropriate type of larynx."

"Yeah, I guess so." She supposed that would have been a good segue, but she couldn't quite bring herself to ask, wasn't sure quite what to make of this. She was pretty sure he was making fun of her... but he didn't seem like he thought he was. If anything, it seemed like he was scared of _her. _"So... what's your name?"

"N."

"Is that short for something?"

He shrugged. "Nothing."

"Nothing," she repeated. Now she was annoyed; she had no idea what this guy's problem was, and she was regretting that she'd taken the time to try to find out. She was on the verge of spinning on her heel when he spoke again.

"Like your friend B."

"B is Bianca, that's just a nickname!" she snapped; and then stopped, rapidly replaying the conversations they'd had as they'd walked into the plaza, and realized just how long he must have been listening to them to have heard that.

"N isn't for nickname."

"Okay, look, I'm sorry I bothered you," she said, raising her hands. N was for nuts, as far as she was concerned. "Let me get out of your hair."

"I've upset you," he said, his fingers winding themselves into the Purrloin's fur as he clutched it— her—closer, as if for protection. He stepped forward uncertainly, the light falling on his features revealing a genuinely troubled expression, and she suddenly, maddeningly, felt as if she'd kicked a Lillipup. She also realized, seeing him more clearly, that he was older than she'd realized; she'd assumed he was her age, but he was at least a couple of years older, more a young man than an older boy. That made his stilted behavior all the more unnerving.

"Look, I just... I need to get back to the Pokécenter," she said, prevaricating. "My friends are waiting for me. They know where I am," she added in a sudden burst of inspiration, "and they'll come looking for me if I'm gone too long." She didn't _think _he was going to try anything—and the farmhouse was right there if he did, they could certainly hear her yell—but she accepted that this situation had gotten pretty far out of hand and figured it was worth hedging her bets.

"Oh." He reached up to raise the brim of his hat. "Will they want to battle?"

"No, I bet they're pretty tired."

"Oh." He brightened. "I should walk you back."

Hilda blinked. "Uh, no, man, I don't want to put you out..."

"It's no trouble." He smiled faintly as he took a step forward, balancing on the ball of his foot and watching her expectantly, as if waiting for her to proceed. "It's polite."

She met his gaze, uncertain; he seemed, as far as she could tell, to be completely forthright. Maybe he was from somewhere deep in the boonies, where they still practiced this kind of chivalry as a matter of course; that would help explain a lot of his other weird behavior. At any rate, it wasn't a long walk, and it was easier than fighting about it. "Sure. Come on." She turned and started off, tucking her right hand into the pocket of her ragged jean shorts, not incidentally placing it within easy reach of the pokéballs hanging from her belt.

N caught up to her quickly, covering the ground in easy, loose-limbed strides; he got a little bit ahead of her before he realized how much he'd have to slow his pace to accommodate hers. He really was _tall_; she couldn't venture much of a guess as to his actual height, but she didn't come up much past his elbow. The Purrloin's tail brushed lightly against her face as it got loose from his grasp and climbed up to ride on his shoulder. "You guys seem like pretty good friends," she said.

He nodded. "She's very kind."

They walked in silence for a time, drawing ever closer to the town center. N seemed perfectly content to stare at the ground beneath his feet.

"My name's Hilda."

He nodded again. "I know. I was standing behind you at the rally."

Well, at least he admitted to it, she thought. "Didn't seem like much of a rally to me," she said. "People seemed really bummed out by what that guy had to say."

"People are often troubled when confronted with the evidence of their poor behavior."

She looked up at him sharply. "You, with that Purrloin on your shoulder, are telling me you really agree with all that stuff?"

"Prrrlt is doing me a favor, as one friend to another."

Not exactly an answer, she noted. "So... you asked her to help you out? With battles and stuff?"

"Yes."

"And she said yes?"

"Obviously."

She watched him sidelong; his face was completely impassive. She was willing to believe that _he _believed... but that didn't mean much. "So... you were really talking to my Lillipup earlier? You seemed kind of upset." He paced beside her wordlessly, as if he hadn't heard her speak. "His name's Lemmy," she offered, trying to draw him out.

He stopped abruptly and turned to look at her, his pale green eyes unreadable. "How do you know?" he asked.

"Because that's what I call him...?"

"Oh." His mouth hardened; his expression became shuttered, and she knew that, as far as he was concerned, she'd given the wrong answer. His gaze flicked away, and for a second she expected him to turn and stalk off. "I don't see your friends."

"Wha... oh!" She turned around, smiling sheepishly at herself; she hadn't realized that he'd stopped because they'd arrived at the Pokécenter. He was peering through the windows of the white, red-roofed building. "Oh, uh, they probably went somewhere to eat, or, um, got a room already," she said, embarrassed. Once again, he simply nodded.

"So, um, you're on your journey too, right? Maybe I'll see you around somewhere," she said uncertainly.

"Maybe." He reached up and touched the brim of his cap to her, and without another word, turned and started back in the direction from which they'd come, the Purrloin resting comfortably upon his shoulders.

Hilda watched him go, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She hadn't exactly made a friend there, but... she shook her head with a sigh. Cheren had been right; she'd spent a lot of the day on this, and she had to make tracks if she wanted to make it to Striation City at a reasonable hour. She lifted the strap of her bag over her head so that it ran crosswise across her body, hoping that would keep it from banging against her hip too badly as she jogged.

She cast one last glance over her shoulder as she arrived at the gate, and, though she could not have said why, was disappointed to see that he'd already vanished. _Weird, _she told herself, and pushed through the doors.


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Wow, so much for that weekly update schedule! Sorry about that, folks, but I'm afraid I've had some health problems sapping my creativity. Fortunately, everything is sorted now, with the fringe benefit (sort of...) that I'll have plenty of time to write while I'm laid up recuperating. :) Many thanks to everyone who commented on the first chapter, and to those who've stuck around for updates to resume (or, er, well, begin); things are just starting to get interesting for Hilda!

**Chapter Two**

Hilda had stayed out later than she'd meant to. By the time she was halfway up Route 2, twilight had already nearly given way to night; but the closer she drew to Striation City, the more brightly its orange, sodium-vapor aura had illuminated the darkness, leaving the route in a hazy, half-lit dusk that played tricks with her sense of time.

She'd also really, really wanted a Purrloin of her own.

She was pretty sure she'd managed to encounter the same one twice, which made her failure all the more frustrating. But it burst from her last pokéball with an easy, muscular grace, vanishing into the tall grass before she had a chance to so much as swear at it. She had marched resolutely down the road, fully intending to pick up another handful of balls at the Center and head right back out; it was only seeing the time on the gate's scrolling news display that made her realize just how long she'd spent on the hunt. As if the knowledge flipped some sort of internal switch, she suddenly became aware of just how tired she really was, how sore her feet and her throwing arm were.

_Oh, well, _she thought with a smile._ It's not like I've only been doing this for a whole day or anything! _And while the Deadly Duo hanging from her belt would have to remain a twosome for the time being, they'd at least gotten some good training in on the way.

The gate doors slid open before her_—very fancy!_—and the transition from the well-lit interior to the nighttime darkness of the streets left her blinking in confusion. She was surprised to find the thoroughfare so empty; it wasn't that late, and she'd expected to find the city still relatively bustling, but only a few travelers shared the road with her. Maybe everyone hung out downtown once the sun set.

At whim, she hung a right, making her way towards the north of the city; she hadn't thought to ask, but Pokécenters were usually in one of the quadrant corners if they weren't centrally located. She probably should have just headed straight for downtown, but, even as tired as she was, there was something exciting about strolling the city streets by herself, pokéballs on her hip; she felt very grown up, even if she did make a point of staying close to the streetlamps.

Not that she was exactly on skid row, of course. Striation barely counted as a city, and she walked past bungalows and brownstones that huddled together amongst their wrought iron fences. Mostly it existed to support the university and its staff. There'd been something else here too, once upon a time, but if she'd ever known what, she couldn't remember. Her mother had moved here to work when she was a little older than Hilda, but she didn't like to talk about those days much.

Annoyed at herself for thinking of it, she found herself speeding up, the heels of her boots rapping staccato on the well-kept pavement of the sidewalk. She really just needed to find her friends and then get some shut-eye. She thumbed the Xtransceiver on her wrist, but stopped herself; she didn't want to be the first one to call. It would seem like squalling for help, somehow, and if even Bianca was managing on her own, Hilda could surely do the same. The road ahead of her dead-ended in a cross street; she'd hang a left and follow that towards the center of town.

As she drew closer, Hilda realized that "dead end" was a little more literal than she'd realized. Though buildings flanked it on either side, the road had gone through once, and was now blocked off by rusty chainlink gates. A driveway? she wondered, stopping to regard it. She couldn't really see much beyond the gates; there were lights inside, but they were nowhere near as bright as the streetlamps, and it seemed to be pretty seriously overgrown with foliage. She turned away, heading down the road that led in the opposite direction. It would be there tomorrow, if it even proved to be anything interesting; probably just some junkyard or something.

The area she was in was still mostly residential, but just a couple of blocks ahead, she could see small crowds of people moving around lighted businesses. She relaxed, picking up her pace a little; the Pokécenter couldn't be too far. A nice hot shower, some sleep, and she'd be totally ready to go sniffing around the Gym tomorrow. Her hand fell to caress her pokéballs unconsciously. Could they really be ready? It didn't seem possible, not after a single day together... the idea of earning a badge at all, any badge, still didn't seem entirely real to her. But they'd scarcely broken a sweat taking care of anything that had come their way so far. She smiled. This time tomorrow, she might be celebrating her first real win. Might already be on the road, heading towards her second. Might impress the Gym Leader so much with how awesome she was that they'd offer her—

"Hilda!"

She'd been so deep in her reverie that she actually flinched upon hearing her name called, her gaze darting around wildly. Who—? What—?

"Hilda!" Closer now, behind her; she spun around to see Bianca hurrying towards her from the corner she'd just turned.

"B!" she cried happily, smothering an internal scowl at the memory of N's comments as she jogged towards her friend. She was surprised by just how much the sight of Bianca lifted her spirits. She hadn't thought she was scared, or lonely, but... well, it was really nice to run into Bianca like this.

Bianca threw her arms around Hilda as if they hadn't just seen each other a few hours ago, stepping back without letting go of Hilda's biceps. "Did you meet with Professor Fennel, too?" she asked with a smile.

"No, I just got here. What's the good word?"

Bianca straightened her shoulders and folded her arms imperiously. "I am on a quest for science."

"Oooh, I bet Cheren's jealous."

"Did you know that the university sponsors a Trainer's School here? We are never, ever going to see Cheren again."

"Seriously, why bother going on a journey and training pokémon yourself when you can just read books and never be exposed to fresh air or daylight or anything?"

Bianca nodded solemnly. "I haven't seen him practically since we got here. I swung back by a little while ago to see if he wanted to get dinner, but he was in the middle of some kind of seminar, so I didn't want to interrupt."

"Good! Then I can just swipe his notes to gain his power." Hilda punched Bianca lightly on the shoulder. "So what about you, Science Woman? You gonna go discover the coefficient of his fingernails on the floor when you try to drag him out and make him get some sleep?"

"Haha! Funny you should say sleep, though. Did you know—gosh, maybe I ought to just take you to meet Professor Fennel..." Bianca chewed her lip, then flapped her hand in dismissal of her own suggestion. "I'm sure you'll meet her soon. Anyway... do you ever remember Pinko doing anything weird?"

"Pinko?" Hilda's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Wow, I haven't thought of him in forever. Um..." She frowned in thought, trying to recall. "Mostly he just kind floated around and was fat. Sometimes he made fart noises with his mouth."

Bianca snickered. "Professor Fennel studies Munna, and she's so enthusiastic I didn't have the nerve to tell her we used to bat one around like a balloon."

Hilda smiled fondly. "Yeah, he was a good sport. Used to help me get to sleep when I was having a rough night." The journey to entomb him in the Celestial Tower had been the first trip her mother had ever taken her on. "They run wild around here?"

"Yep! And what's more... oh, I'm going to mess this up, I barely understood what she was telling me about her project." Bridget reached up to fidget with her green beret. "Well, basically... they secrete something, probably to do with their hypnosis? The professor called it Dream Smoke, and she's using it for some kind of pokémon psychology experiment. It sounded kind of out there to me, like I said, I didn't really understand what she was saying—I guess if you give it to pokémon, you can see their dreams? Or she hopes you'll be able to, at least. So!" She rummaged in her bag for a moment, and then displayed a strange, sealed flask. "I'm going to get her some."

"Dream Smoke," Hilda said dubiously, raising a hand to cup her chin. "I mean, I'm not the Munna Master by any means, but I don't remember anything like that. Kinda hard to imagine Mom letting Pinko cruise around the house oozing psych meds everywhere, you know?"

"Well," Bianca said, her voice quiet, "he was very old."

"Yeah." Hilda shrugged, scuffing the ground with the toe of her boot. "Hey, like I said, I hardly remember, it's totally possible. So that's what's on the schedule for tomorrow?"

"Oh, no, they're nocturnal in the wild; I'm on my way to try to find one now."

"Wow, hope you had some coffee! Where are they?"

Bianca turned and pointed back the way she'd come, directly at the chainlink gates.

Hilda raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so... you met a strange woman who talked to you about drugs and then told you to go to a creepy isolated place by yourself? I've seen horror movies that start this way."

Bianca laughed, but there was a tinge of nervousness to it. "She says it looks a lot worse than it is. They call it the Dream Yard, after the Munna; she says a lot of trainers go there to practice, so they're out of everyone's way." She glanced behind her uncertainly. "There's lights..."

Hilda could have kicked herself. Here Bianca was, out in the world and getting involved in things on her own for a change, and Hilda managed to scare her. She was such a wimp Hilda wanted to shake her sometimes; she ought to be cheering and applauding her friend's initiative, not giving Bianca more things to worry about. But it looked like the damage was already done; Bianca's lower lip was between her teeth, her hands clutching the strap of her bag hard enough to whiten her knuckles. "Well, good," Hilda said with what she hoped was passable enthusiasm. "That way the muggers will see us coming and know to run away."

"Oh... oh, you don't have to come." And she meant it: if Hilda begged off, Bianca wouldn't be a jerk about it, would probably never even mention it again. She also probably wouldn't go at all. Though Hilda doubted there was a manipulative bone in Bianca's body, the poorly suppressed hopeful excitement written across her face was hard to say no to.

"No, it's cool. Actually..." Hilda brightened, and then slapped her satchel in annoyance. "Crap, I'm out of balls. I just realized, it might be cool if I caught one for mom."

"Yeah! You can use one of mine, that would be really sweet of you." Bianca started drifting towards the Dream Yard.

It only took a few moments for them to reach the gates; Hilda frowned as they paused. She'd been mostly kidding about the muggers, but this _was _pretty creepy; who knew what was in there, choked beneath the climbing ivy? But she obviously hadn't been paying attention too closely before; Bianca walked over to a small doorway set in the chainlink off to the side as if she'd known it would be there. "Looks like this is it," she said, pulling it open. The door swung soundlessly on its hinges; somebody must be looking after the place, at least a little.

Taking that as a good sign, Hilda followed Bianca closely as they stepped through, pulling the door shut behind her. She squinted, willing her eyes to adapt to the faint, white light that suffused their surroundings. Some kind of glow sticks? No, she realized, peering upwards; rectangular security lights, probably solar-powered. This wasn't a forest; this was, or had been, a building, and what she'd taken for trees were the cracked, fallen concrete walls and jutting steel beams of what must have been a pretty big complex.

"Looks like someone used Earthquake in here," Bianca murmured.

"Seriously." Hilda took a few steps forward onto the buckled, cracked blacktop. She'd been right; this had been a driveway. She paused again; if Bianca made so much as a peep about being nervous, she was going to leap on the excuse and march them both right back out of here. As the silence stretched on, she resigned herself to pushing forward. "Well, come on," she said finally. "We've got some Munnas to squeeze."

Bianca smiled as she hurried to catch up. "We don't have to squeeze them," she said, hefting the flask in her hand. "This has some kind of air filter attached to it, and it's collecting the Dream Smoke just by being in here. It just goes a lot more quickly if you can get close to one."

"What'll they think of next?" Hilda muttered with a roll of her eyes.

"Hey," Bianca said softly. "Thanks."

Hilda glanced over sharply; the light was dim enough that she couldn't make out much of Bianca's expression, but Bianca was definitely regarding her. She felt the same flush of embarrassment she always did when Bianca caught her being a mother Swanna and looked away. "It's cool," she said, and continued forward into the Dream Yard.

Despite what Fennel had told Bianca, they seemed to have the place to themselves; but as they walked through, Hilda got the impression that the place was probably pretty hopping on the weekends. There were liquor and juice bottles piled here and there, ragged blankets scattered around, and the walls were covered with fresh graffiti—Bel 3s Touya! Touko licks Tympoles!—of a decidedly juvenile stripe. She could actually see herself hanging out in a place like this. There were plenty of nice places to sprawl out in, both private and not-so-private, and the ruined rooms of the building would probably make good dueling spaces; even better, there were no neighbors close enough to be bothered by the noise. She wondered if it might not be worth it to hang around and see—

She nearly leapt out of her skin and Bianca's hand suddenly fastened around her bicep, but Bianca held a finger up to her lips, a smile creasing her face as she pointed ahead of them, into one of the damaged rooms. Hilda frowned in concentration as she peered into the gloom, but soon enough, she caught it: a faint, moaning cry that brought with it a happy wave of nostalgia.

A moment later, the Munna came into view, bobbing through the air like a balloon cut loose from its string; Hilda half-expected it to have the same purple half-flower on its snout that Pinko had had. At the same time, she felt her pulse speeding up in anticipation; she really, really wished she'd run back to the Center for more balls of her own.

She looked over to check Bianca's reaction—unsurprisingly, she was standing still, holding the flask loosely and _not _reaching for a ball—and was surprised to see the smile fade from her face. "Aww, they're gonna catch it," she whispered.

Hilda glanced back to the Munna. Bianca was right; two people in hoodies were making their way through the bushes in hot pursuit. "That'll save some trouble," she whispered back. "I bet they'll let you use your thing on it."

One of them leapt over the crumbled foundation and skidded onto the warped linoleum floor so fast Hilda was sure he was going to trip. He flailed his arms for balance, barely missing the Munna, which bobbled out of his way. The other guy followed a little more cautiously, circling around to flank the Munna. The first one cursed under his breath as he found his footing amongst the grass forcing its way through the tiles. Hilda watched closely, curious; was there another one they hadn't seen? It sure looked like they were setting up for a double battle. Or maybe Fennel had given them flasks, too; she wanted to see what they would do.

The last thing in the world she expected to see was the one who'd cursed haul off and deliver a back-handed slap to the Munna.

Hilda's jaw dropped as the Munna hooted unhappily, dumbstruck with confusion and horror. It tried to get away, but the other one grabbed at it; there was a brief struggle, and the Munna slipped from his hands like a greased football. It headed straight back the way they'd come, but it was nowhere near fast enough; the one who'd first hit it caught up to it in a couple of steps and slapped it again, this time hard enough to knock it to the ground.

She could barely believe what she was seeing. The Munna struggled to rise, not bothering to right itself as it slowly rose a few inches into the air, and there was a crunch, and Bianca was running past her, and Bianca was _screaming._

"_Stop! Stop hitting it! Oh, what are you doing, just STOP!"_ Bianca nearly fell as she scrambled over the fallen wall, the strap of her bag catching on a jutting piece of pipe. "_How could you—NO!" _As she'd struggled to untangle herself, the man drew back his foot and kicked the Munna savagely. It spun through the air towards the far wall and collided with a wet, meaty thud. It seemed almost as if it stuck, for a second; then it fell to the ground, unmoving.

"_How could you? How DARE you? How COULD you?_" Bianca, chubby, nervous, wimpy Bianca was shrieking at the two men, waving her hands frenziedly. She ran over to the fallen Munna and snatched it up, clutching it against her chest. "_You've HURT it!"_

One of the men paced towards her, slowly, menacingly. "Put it down," he said. "This is no business of yours."

"_No! Leave it ALONE! Leave US alone!"_ Bianca cowered before him. Hilda could see her trembling, the tears starting to spill down her cheeks; but she didn't give an inch of ground.

"Put. It. Down," the man repeated, as if speaking to a simpleton. "Or you will be a very sorry little girl."

Hilda had long ago accepted that she was not the greatest person in the world. She told lies, sometimes simply for convenience; she had also just discovered that she froze when panicked. She saw no problem with making Cheren do her homework for her when she could talk him into it. She sneaked sips out of her mother's liquor cabinet when she thought she could get away with it.

And, sometimes, she got angry. Blindingly, furiously angry, just like her father.

"Oooh, _big _man," she snarled, scarcely aware that her feet were carrying her towards them at a measured, steady pace. "Beating up a little crapsack pokémon didn't do it for you, so you're moving up to little girls?" She vaulted over the wall, landing neatly, planting her feet and folding her arms. "_Such _a tough guy. I'm _so _impressed."

"This doesn't concern you. _Either _of you." The other one, the one who hadn't hit the Munna, spoke up; his voice was high and thin. "Leave the Munna, take your friend, and go." Hilda looked at him, sizing him up, and realized how wrong she'd been; they weren't wearing hoodies, but cowls, fine metal wires all woven together into a hood than ran down to join with the rest of his armored shirt. He had a sheet on, some kind of white covering, with a design blazed proudly on the chest.

And she recognized it. Plasma. From the park.

And a tiny, frightened voice yammered away in the back of her mind, _get her and get out of here, you're all alone and they're crazy and you've GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE—_

And Hilda said, "Nah. I've got some liberating to do."

The one that stood over Bianca actually _roared _as he rounded on her_, _a choking, hoarse cry of rage. "How _dare _you mock what you could never _hope _to understand?"

"Yeah, I think I'm good with being ignorant of whatever it is that makes people act like this." She flung out a hand towards Bianca and the limp Munna, then reached down to grab her pokeballls. Even with the anger coursing through her veins, she was sorry she'd said it, sorry she'd antagonized the guy, sorry she'd—

_"SILENCE!"_

"You wanna try beating up a Snivy, you _dick_?" She unhooked the ball from her belt, rolling it between her fingers, realizing with panicked horror that she couldn't feel the button-

_Ow._

The world went hazy for a moment. A high, frightened squeal came from somewhere nearby.

"What are you _doing?_"

Her palms skidded along the ground, gravel digging into her flesh. Grasshole's ball slipped from her grip, rolling gently away.

"Don't question me! Just _get _it!"

Why was she lying on the ground? Why did her jaw hurt so badly? Why was she so scared?

She hauled herself up to her hands and knees, blinking furiously, trying to focus her vision. She reached out, groping for the dropped pokéball, a huge rush of relief flooding through her as her fingers brushed it. She clutched it to her chest, glancing around. Bianca was crouched against a wall not far away, a pink bundle clutched in her arms, her tear-stained face turned up to watch something Hilda couldn't see. Hilda shook her head, dazed, and suddenly their situation snapped back into focus.

_Oh, crap-_

She scrambled to her feet, still dizzy, and fell back to one knee. She braced her hands against her knees and struggled to haul herself upright once more, but things became... strange.

A sound like a struck gong reverberated through the night; it washed over her in a way that almost felt physical. _Brain damage, _she thought with a remarkable degree of calm as the low dirge vibrated against her skin, _I hit my head and I have brain damage and I'm going to die._ But even as the thought unfurled, she felt herself growing calmer, her breathing slowing as her vision grew hazier. Everything she saw was suffused with a deep purple tint. She wondered if she'd burst a blood vessel but, like the sound, the purple seemed to have weight and texture as she passed her hand through the air, almost clinging to her skin. As bad as she knew things to be, she couldn't help but take a moment to marvel at it, slowly flexing her fingers before her eyes.

She heard a soft squeak, at odds with the metallic moan that was only now beginning to taper off; Bianca was shaking so hard it seemed like she'd come apart, both of arms wrapped tightly around the hurt Munna. Hilda scurried over, heedless of whatever else might be going on, and threw her arm around her friend's shoulder. She turned to look at the Plasmas, and things got...

...stranger...

Her heart leaped into her throat when she realized that there were now three of them, but-no-four? Three? Only two? Neither-none of them-paid the slightest attention to the girls, and Hilda's temples throbbed as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. The two guys were staring at _something_ that moved slowly around them, something that seemed sometimes to trail along the ground, and sometimes to hover at waist-height. The eerie noise came again, more quietly this time, but more nuanced; deeper, rising and falling in tones Hilda couldn't quite determine were speech or not.

Whatever was happening, it petrified the Plasmas; both of their eyes remained fixed on the indeterminate shape that circled slowly around them... that floated higher? Was that a tall woman, trailing her skirts? _What?_ Hilda knuckled her eyelids, trying to focus, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

"O-of course," said the scrawnier Plasma, the one who'd urged them to leave peacefully. "Of _course, _my Lord!" Without taking his eyes off the shape, he slapped his companion on the shoulder, already beginning to step backwards. The other man grunted as if startled out of a daze; the first Plasma's hand closed around his shoulder, dragging him along as he started to run, and soon they had both disappeared into the tinted darkness.

The deep, sonorous tone sounded once more, and this time Hilda nearly felt her bones vibrate with it, her jaw clenching unconsciously. But as the noise became almost unbearable, her perception snapped into focus once again, as if a film had been wiped from her eyes. A normal night; a normal gloom, faintly illuminated by the security lights; and there, a half dozen yards away, something large and solid passed over the broken wall without stepping over it, moving slowly but surely in the direction the Plasmas had taken.

Hilda exhaled, a deep, shuddering sigh, only then becoming aware of how badly her arm hurt, of how tightly she'd been clutching Bianca. Her jaw ached; her knees and palms stung; she had absolutely no idea what they'd just witnessed; but she did know that they seemed to be alone for the time being, and she wanted to get _out _of there while the getting was good. "C'mon, B," she said, quietly but urgently as she eased herself out of her crouch. "We gotta beat it."

She'd been dimly aware of Bianca's shoulders shaking with sobs all the while, but as soon as she spoke, they seemed to ratchet up in severity, the other girl practically choking on them. "I-I think, I, I th-" Bianca gagged on the words, sniffling mightily. "I-I don't th-think it's b-breathing!"

Hilda's blood ran cold. _The poor little thing._ She'd managed to forget the beaten Munna. "It totally is, I just saw it move," she said in what she hoped was a convincing tone; she could barely see it, wrapped in Bianca's embrace, and a sad, horrified revulsion at its plight made her frightened to touch it. "We've got to get it to the Pokécenter, like, _now, _though. C'mon, B, get it in a ball so it won't notice the run."

But Bianca was raising her head instead, her face red and streaked with tears, and lowering her arms so that she could inspect the battered creature. Hilda absolutely could not deal with the freakout that would surely ensue if the Munna really was dead. "B, come on, get it together, girl." Bianca looked up at her, dazed, frightened, half-grateful for the instruction. "I'd do it if I could, but I don't have any balls on me, remember?" She reached out to clasp Bianca's bicep. "C'mon. Get him packed up and let's _go._"

Bianca stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment, her lower lip caught between her teeth, and Hilda's heart sank; she was out of ideas and petrified of what would happen if those guys came back. But even as her shoulders started to sag in defeat, Bianca turned, carefully arranging the Munna's limp weight, and began to rummage through her purse. Hilda had another bad moment as Bianca fumbled with a ball, thumbing the catch; she wasn't sure, but she didn't think it would work if it wasn't alive.

The soft pink body disappeared in a wash of red light. Her lips split in a fierce, joyous grin. "Al_right, _Bianca saves the day! Now come _on!_" Hilda tightened her grip on Bianca's arm and hauled her bodily upright, heedless of anything but running away.

Later on, she couldn't remember a lot of what happened over the next half an hour or so; it was almost like looking at snapshots in a photo album. They ran, Bianca stumbling and struggling to keep up, but never faltering; they nearly trampled someone at some point. She didn't recall anyone trying to stop or help them, which was really for the best, as she still had her Snivy's ball clutched in her left hand, and anyone who got in her way might have gotten a faceful of Vine Whip for their trouble.

She wasn't sure how they found the Pokécenter, but they did. The nurse was briefly angered at their abrupt, panicked entrance, then horrified when she realized what had happened to them. Bianca stopped crying when the pokeball was placed into the machine; she snatched it away when it was handed to her, cradling it against her chest as if it were made of glass.

The police were called. The nurse picked gravel out of Hilda's palms while they waited. Hilda could scarcely string three coherent words together; her face ached, and the strange, smothering dizziness she'd thought they'd abandoned in the Dream Yard washed over her with a vengeance.

Bianca furiously refused to let the police-or anyone, for that matter-see the Munna, and then started crying again, afraid they would arrest her for having stolen it. Hilda got it together enough to ask if she could take Bianca upstairs. She assumed that they'd been okay with that, because she and Bianca had been sitting cross-legged on the floor of one of the small, nondescript rooms the Pokécenter kept for wandering trainers for... some length of time. She blinked, her eyelids feeling like sandpaper. Her jaw, her hands, her joints, her back, everything ached. Had she been sleeping? What time was it? Where was Cheren, hadn't one of them called him?

Was this really what being on your own was like? Did being a grown-up really suck this badly?

Bianca was silent, her head drooping, and still enough that Hilda would have thought she was sleeping, had she not been rolling the Munna's pokéball between her palms. Hilda watched her for a moment, exhausted, uncertain of what to do. "You kicked ass out there," she said finally.

A small smile lifted one chubby cheek. "Thanks," she whispered, the motion of the pokéball never ceasing.

Hilda waited a few beats longer, struggling to keep her eyes open, but no further speech was forthcoming. "Well," she said, "I have to clean the dirt off my scrapes." She stifled a yawn. "You gonna be okay in here?"

"I'll come with you." Bianca's voice was toneless, the response automatic.

"If you want, but I'm just gonna be a sec." Hilda levered herself stiffly to her feet, pausing to see if Bianca really meant to join her, but the blonde only nodded her head absently.

Hilda let herself out, making sure to lock the door securely behind her, and ambled down the hall towards ladies' washroom, shouldering her way through the swinging door nearly sightlessly. She blinked as her eyes adjusted, the fluourescent lighting making her headache twinge, and contemplated taking an actual shower before realizing that she had neglected to bring any of her things with her, and that if she was that tired, Bianca could just deal with the smell for a night. If she was even capable of noticing, given the state she was in.

She leaned against one of the porcelain sinks mounted against the wall, grabbing a handful of tissue to wet under the faucet and dribble with soap. She patted at her knee gingerly, but scarcely felt the sting as she gently cleaned her scrapes. She probably should have gone downstairs and had the nurse finish the job, but they weren't so bad, and she was just so tired. She swiped both knees free of dirt and tossed the tissue into the wastebasket, turning to plant her hands on the sink and regard herself in the mirror.

The dark circles under her eyes startled her at first, but were only marks of exhaustion, not bruises. She craned her neck to look at the aching spot on her jaw; there were no marks, and didn't seem to be any swelling, but _man, _it hurt. _Must've slapped me._ She froze, stricken, as the reality of that thought sunk in. It had all really happened. It had really been that bad.

Her face was pinched with exhaustion, her eyes weary, the faint hint of lines visible around her mouth, her dark hair lank and dusty from her travels. Her lip curled in disdain; this is probably what she'd look like when she was twenty-five.

_Well, I got us out, right?_ Never mind that she'd gone down like a chump, never mind that she hadn't even had a chance to unleash a pokémon, never mind that it probably wouldn't have been that bad if she'd just been able to keep her stupid mouth shut. She'd gotten them out. She was okay; the Munna was okay; Bianca was probably going to be okay.

She turned away from her exhausted visage, her feet shuffling back towards the promise of sleep almost of their own volition.

Now, which room where they in? She could look at the tag on the key in her pocket, but that seemed like way too much effort all of a sudden. Five doors, the stairwell with the vending machines, another two doors-three doors?-no, two-

"Hi."

It took her a moment to register that someone had spoken; she continued onward for a few steps, then stopped and turned around. Peering cautiously at her from the stairwell, a bottle of water clutched in both hands, was the tall, lanky creep from the afternoon. Nickname. Nuts. And, right now, Nuisance. "I cannot even deal with you right now," she said, and turned away, continuing towards her room. She raised a hand to push her hair out of her eyes, the scrapes on her palm stinging, and stopped again, turning to face him. "No, you know what, actually I can."

He drew back as she approached, raising himself to his full height and clasping the water bottle to his chest as if it might protect him. He must have been on his way to bed as well; he stood barefoot, his green hair loose and bushed wildly around his shoulders. She felt a twinge of guilt as she saw his expression deepen into wariness, but she shoved it aside; she wanted _some_one to appreciate what she'd been through tonight. "Those dudes you like from the park, Team Plasma? The ones who want us to let all our pokémon go?" He nodded. She fisted her hands on her hips. "Yeah, them. Did you hear all that fuss down in the lobby earlier?" He shook his head, his expression growing concerned. "Well, ask somebody about it, because that was me and my friend coming back from making two of them stop kicking the crap out of a Munna!"

He blinked in surprise, his mouth opening as if to speak, then closing with a snap as his brows drew down. He shook his head. "No."

"No? _No?_" Hilda gaped at him, shocked at the flat denial, her voice rising hysterically. "You think I got these playing _pattycake _with them?" she snarled, flinging her hands up to show him the wounds the gravel had torn in her hands. "Why make them battle when you can just beat the hell out of 'em yourself, right? So much more efficient!"

N had actually _flinched _when she raised her hands, and regarded her wounds with an expression of dawning horror. Hilda suddenly deflated, letting her hands drop to her sides. She would not have thought tonight could get much worse, but frightening strangers and yelling in the hallway like a crazy person were pretty far down there.

She sighed, knuckling her eyes, exhaustion rolling over her in a dizzying wave. "So... yeah. Um." She shook her head. "You, um... yeah. Bye." Unable to deal with how much more awkward this might become, she turned tail and fled.


End file.
